


Memoirs

by tricksterity



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, set at beginning of thor 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 09:29:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tricksterity/pseuds/tricksterity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki, imprisoned in a glass cage, alone and mad, receives a letter from his wife. (AKA why Sigyn is an awesome wife)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memoirs

He would’ve preferred a cold, dank dungeon made of stone and darkness to _this_. This disgusting piece of torture thought up by his father to humiliate him, to embarrass him for his past actions. A glass prison, four clear walls with nought to do but have his thoughts run rampant through his head, circling around and around like vultures about to dive in for their prey. People walking past, faces he recognized, faces he used to call friend, or foe, or acquaintance or slave. All of them laughing at him, sneering at him, calling him names and jeering, or even just studying him like he was a lab rat. He hadn’t even gotten a trial; had stood in front of his father in chains as the punishment was doled out. It made him sick.

His powers were bound and he could feel his mind spiralling into the depths of insanity, the madness curling around his bones and settling into its new home. If he didn’t get something to do he’d go insane.

Like a miracle, something small and white materialized in mid-air, floating gently like a leaf on the breeze. Quicker than he though was possible, he snatched up the paper, realizing that it was a letter, and that handwriting was oh so familiar. He couldn’t tell if it was a smile or a grimace gracing his face as he settled down to open it.

_Dearest Loki,  
I know that right now you are imprisoned in the place you used to call home. I know how torturous it must be to be locked away while watching the world go by, your powers bound.   
I know that your father knew that this would be the best type of torture for you, and that you must hate him for sending you there, without any remorse or sorrow, not even the slightest hint of it. I know that you blame him for everything that has happened since you found out what you were, how discovering your true heritage began this terrible chain of events that have led to today: powerless, alone, full of hatred and madness._

Oh, Loki thought, of course she knew. She knew everything, how could she not? She knew his inner workings as well as she knew her own, and even if everybody else in this forsaken world thought that he’d gone mad, she would be there. On one hand, at least he had somebody who understood him, and on the other hand he wished that it would be anybody but her. What must she think of him now?

_I know that you can’t blame yourself, but surely you must know that some of it is your own fault. You cannot blame everything that has happened solely on others, my dear, for it was your actions in the first place that began all this. You may have been doing it for the right reasons, but the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.  
It began back in the throne room, the day of your brother’s coronation. Do you remember?_

Of course he remembered. His elder brother, Thor, he shining jewel of Asgard. The first-born, blonde-haired, muscled with the mighty hammer Mjolnir at his side. He was going to be crowned as King of Asgard, but Loki had known that he would be ill-fit for the throne. His brother had been reckless, and stupid, and self-centred. He wouldn’t have made a good king, his arrogance would have catapulted Asgard into war with the Frost Giants, their longest enemy. So Loki had set up a plan to interrupt the coronation, for his brother to reveal his ignorance, and for his father to postpone the coronation. He was only thinking of Asgard and her people, and his father was blinded to his eldest son’s arrogance.

_It was your fault when you manipulated your brother, using your words, twisting them on your silver tongue as you planted the idea into his mind of traveling to Jötunheim, to teach the Frost Giants a lesson. Some fun, I know you thought it was, you tried to back out at the last minute but your brother wouldn’t listen to you. It seems that he never does, doesn’t it? He never listened even when you were right, and the consequences were never good._

Loki couldn’t help the doubt seep into his mind like thickening oil. It sounded like she was agreeing with him, and understanding what he did but then why has she blaming him? Shouldn’t she be empathizing with him, here herself instead of writing him only to taunt him?

_So your brother was banished, your father fell into the Sleep and you were crowned King Regent until he awoke. You never wanted the crown, you only ever wanted to be your brother’s equal, to finally prove yourself worthy from under his shadow and in the eye of your father and his scrutiny. You wanted to show all of Asgard that one didn’t have to be muscled to be powerful, to be strong, and to be King. And now you were. And your actions were entirely to blame on yourself._

_You wanted to show your father that you were worthy after discovering what you were._

_A Frost Giant. A Jötunn. The monster that parents tell their children about at night. Asgard’s sworn enemies for all of time. The very monster your brother said that he would hunt down and slay until none remained._

The humans would have called it déjà vu, as the words in the letter reflected the emotions he felt the moment his hand turned blue on that icy world, when he picked up the Casket stolen from them and felt his body turn cold, when his father admitted that he was nothing more than a bargaining chip to bring about a permanent peace. He was a monster, a fact he’d tried so hard to forget and was now thrown back into his face by the one he cared about most, and he still couldn’t tell if she was being understanding or teasing him, and he wanted to rip the letter into little shreds but he owed her to continue on.

_You wanted to prove that you were not like them, that you were Asgardian, by doing the one thing that would have made all of Asgard the most impressed, and the most worthy act in the eye of your father. You decided to destroy Jötunheim, and all of the Frost Giants with it. You would be the ultimate Asgardian, having done what none could, and you would be worthy. You would no longer be a monster because they did not exist._

It was true. If his father had just let him do what he wanted, if he had just let him prove himself and destroy that planet, the Asgardians would have loved him, his father would have been proud, and he would have been worthy. But of course, his father didn’t truly love him, not like Thor, and when he was suspended over space, dangling above a black hole, begging with his father to understand, to know what he was…

_When you were nothing, and unworthy, and a failure and repulsive and the monster you tried so hard not to be, for your own father to recognize each and every one of those traits and throw them back in your face._

_And so you fell, hoping to find some peace in oblivion._

_But you didn’t find it, did you love?_

Oh Hell. She knew.

_Instead, you found Thanos. You found the Chitauri race. And they tortured you, didn’t they? They used heat and fire to mutilate you, only to heal you back up to start it again. Because the best way to torture a Frost Giant is with heat._

Like a trigger, he was thrown back into memories he’d buried deep, even deeper than the rejection of his father. How Thanos had put him through unimaginable pain, after he’d only wanted blackness and nothingness, yet he was melted down like ice and reformed from the sludge he had become. To be unmade and healed continuously, until he begged for release and promised to do what Thanos asked of him, until he’d promised to take over the realm of Midgard and their weak human race to steal back the Tesseract, a source of unimaginable power and destruction for Thanos. 

He liked to tell himself that it was because he was under the Tesseract’s influence himself, but deep down he knew that wasn’t really the case.

_Then your brother and the humans who called themselves the Avengers foiled your plan, once again, and your brother still loved you, couldn’t bring himself to hate you even though it would have made it so much easier for you if he just hated you. And he brought you back home to face trial in front of your father, who rejected you; your mother, who taught you all she knew; all of Asgard, who saw you as a failure._

And now he was sentenced to life in a glass cage, just another old relic locked up until they might have use of him. He was to be punished for wanting to be loved, and then wanting to find peace. How was this fair?

_You might blame it all on others, my love, and indeed they are to blame, but you must remember that the fault is also yours. That the actions you took were unwise, and although you may have been driven to them by desperation, hopelessness and depression, they were still your own actions. You must see this, accept it, and then forgive yourself. It will be the only way you can live with yourself, the only way you will be able to stand being in your own skin._

_I hope that you will see this, and with time, recover from the past and become the Loki you have always been destined to be. And when you have done this, I will be with you once again._

_Always your love and your wife,  
Sigyn._

 

Although he was loath to admit it, and maybe he never consciously would for weeks or even months, he knew that she was right. Deep down, below the anger that constantly bubbled away just under his skin, the part of him that used to be rational, he knew that he had to take some responsibility for his actions. Even just so he could hold her in his arms, and bury his fingers in the wild mane of red that was her hair, to feel her lips turn up into a smile in the crook of his neck. 

For her, he would do anything, no matter how painful.


End file.
